


The one where the Real Deal doesn't know how to deal

by Error305_Proxy



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: But Paulie is an angel, I think we all know James Neal has anger issues, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Error305_Proxy/pseuds/Error305_Proxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody takes the loss to the Rangers well, least of all James Neal.<br/>Update: James falls off the radar after game 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The flight back from New York is quiet. There are no video games, no chatter, no card games. Just a dark, brooding silence.

James shifts slightly in his seat. He's still feeling the pent up anger from the end of the game, still a little antsy and a little on edge, and the last thing he needs is to be sitting in a plane for two hours.

He wants to punch something. Preferably a Ranger. Preferably Lundqvist, or Marc Staal, he's not picky.

"Stop." A hand on his thigh stops all his fidgeting, and James sags in his chair.

"Off." James mutters, and pushes Paul's hand away.

"We'll be there soon." Paul whispers, his voice low. There's no good reason why they should be whispering, it's not like anybody is actually sleeping. But the silence that has fallen over the plane is so heavy that neither wants to break it.

"This series suck." James mutters, and turns away to look out the window before Paul can get a word in.

Geno has refused to speak since the end of the game, spitting out harsh Russian words whenever anybody tried to engage them. Dan just told them to pack and they'll talk more at home, which is a little like your father telling you he's disappointed in you, a feeling that James decidedly does not enjoy, but unfortunately has felt too many times in the last couple of days.

Paul though, Paul has been the steady warmth he's always been, sitting with James on the plane. Normally the sheer presence of Paul would calm him down, but tonight James is too keyed up and has way too much energy, and every single thing Paul has done since the end of game has just rubbed James the wrong way.

When the pilot signals that they're landing, James nearly sighs with relief. He needs off this plane, he wants to be home and figure out some way to get rid of the excessive energy.

"You staying over tonight?" Paul asks him when they're both standing and waiting to get off the plane.

"No." James says, "Wait, yes. No - I mean - "

"You can decide later, James." Paul says in the ever so patient tone of voice. It does nothing to sooth James.

"Don’t treat me like a child." James whispers, "Don't talk to me like I'm some spoiled kid who - "

"James, not now." Paul says, his eyes hardening a brief second, "Go home, clear your mind. We can talk later."

"Fuck you." James mutters and shoulders past Paul to get off the plane earlier. He hears from behind him a pained grunt that he knows is from Paul being pushed into one of the armrests, and a dark gleeful feeling spreads in his stomach.

Good, he wants Paul to feel pain. To suffer. To feel the same way James is feeling right now.

He gets into the car and drives off without anybody stopping him. He knows that he's just stranded Paul since they car-pooled together to the airport, but somewhere in the back of his mind he's glad. Paul can get a ride from somebody else. Maybe somebody who's been actually doing well in the series like he has. Maybe Sutter, or Gibbons.

James drives like a man on drugs, nobody pulls him over on the way back to his house.

He opens his door and turns on the lights in the foyer, drops his hockey bag, and freezes.

The extent of his actions hits him and sinks in to his brain the second the lights are switched on, and the force of anger/frustration/regret/disgust that he feels hits him so hard he almost vomits in his living room.

He shoved Paul and hurt him and left him stranded in an airport. Paul, who has been nothing but patient and understanding with him, who has made him breakfast and midnight snacks and held him and told him it's ok and that he's going to be better next game and it doesn't matter that he's not scoring as long as he's playing well. Paul who is his boyfriend but who might very well break up with him now because James was being a fucking baby and can't deal with his life.

James turns around and walks out of his house. He jogs across the street to Paul's, and rings the door bell.

Nobody answers. Of course not, because he had left Paul at the airport, and Paul probably has no means of transportation.

James runs back into his own house, and grabs the car keys that he left hanging on the [key hooks.](http://www.africantrails.co.za/media/images/penguin%20keyhook%20w.jpg) (The ones Paul bought him on a whim once because the hooks were three little penguins and James had made fun of him when he showed it to James because really between the two of them there were only two penguins. And Paul and shrugged and said, well yeah but you want kids eventually, right? And that was the first time they had talked about maybe adopting a kid after they both retire)

He yanks open his front door to get to his car that he parked in the drive way, and stops mid-step. Paul is standing outside his door, tired and resigned.

"Were you going out?" Paul asks. He doesn't make a move to come in James's house.

"I was…" James trails off, lost for words in that moment, "I was going to go pick you up."

"I took a cab." Paul shrugs, as if it's something that he would normally do. As if his boyfriend driving off without him was an everyday occurrence. "Olli offered me a ride, but he lives on the other end of the city and there was already a cab waiting at the airport."

"Paulie - " James chokes on his apology. He doesn't know what he can say to make things ok again, "Paulie, I - "

"Come here." Paul sighs, shaking his head slightly. He pulls James into a hug, tight and warm and exactly apparently exactly what James needs at the moment. "It's going to be ok Jamesy, it's going to be fine."

James nods fervently, clinging to Paul maybe a little too hard. He can feel tears welling up in his eyes, part anger, part frustration, part pure relief that Paul is hugging him.

"Come on, bed." Paul says after another minute of just hugging, "Gotta go in tomorrow and listen to Dan. That's not going to be pretty."

"Yeah." James laughs weakly, his voice a little watery. "Bed sounds good."

"You own me 40 bucks for that cab ride though, ok?" Paul says as they walk across the road to their home. He says this in the same breath that he says, "And tomorrow during practice I'm going to check you a little harder for that shove earlier, ok?"

"Ok, Paulie." James nods, it seems that all of his energy has left him, drained right out of his system. He can barely stand upright from how tired he is, and frankly it's a miracle that he's still putting one foot in front of the other. "Can we go to bed?"

"Yeah, yeah we're going to bed." Paul said and slides one arm across James's waist, "We're going to bed and then practice tomorrow and then we're going to win that game Tuesday night, ok?"

"Ok, Paulie."

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Paul throws his cellphone across the room after the latest call gets him the voicemail message again.

"Hey it's James, I'm busy scoring goals probably, but you know what to do."

"God dammit it James." Paul mutters, and sits down into the couch. It's already hard enough dealing with the game 7 loss, the way James is acting is only making thing that much harder.

Paul hasn't heard from James after the game. The winger had disappeared after the game ended, and Paul had left him alone for the night, knowing that they both liked to stew for a bit after tough losses.

He texted James in the morning, asking if the other player would be over for breakfast. It's now 4pm, and there has been no response.

Not that there has been any responses to the other texts he's sent, "Not hungover, are you?", "Still alive there Jamesy?", "Answer the phone James.", "I'm coming over".

Paul has a key to James's place. He had only used it twice, both when James had managed to lock himself out. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to find when he opens the door, James passed out on the couch? James passed out in bed? James having destroyed every single piece of furniture he owns?

There's no sign of James when Paul goes through the house. The only sign that James was back last night were the blankets hastily thrown next to the couch. Paul sighs and picks it up, folds it, and puts it on the back of the couch. James told him once that he doesn't like sleeping in the bed by himself now. "It's too big for just me." James had said one morning when Paul brought it up.

James doesn't really sleep alone anymore after that. Paul tells himself it's because the penguins can't afford to have a winger with a bad back. But really, he knows better.

"Where did you go Jamesy." Paul mutters absent mindedly as he wanders though the house. There's no sign of James's cell, so the idiot man had at least had enough sense to take that with him.

Paul leaves a note on the kitchen counter, "Come over when you're back.". He's about to leave the house when he rethinks it, and moves the note so that it's taped to the TV instead. Guaranteed that James will see it when he gets back.

He makes dinner for two, shrimp mac n' cheese, because it's James's favorite and because if there's any positive side to being out of the playoffs, it's that they get a week break from their diet (Although it's really more like three days. Three days are the only time Paul is going to allow himself and James).

He keeps an eye on the window for any signs of James. Though the other man's car is parked in the driveway so it's not like there's going to be any obvious signs.

He waits till the mac n' cheese get cold and congeeled before resigning himself to the fact that James isn't going to over for dinner.  


Paul picks his phone and calls Geno. The Russian answers after 10 seconds.

"Paulie. You leaving?" Geno's accent is a little thicker than usual, which really only happens when he's drunk or hungover.

"No, not for a while." Paul says. He was looking forward to seeing his family, but he was also thinking it'd be nice to coordinate with James for their summer plans, spend some time together without another game looming in the future and just relax.

"Things ok?" Geno asks, there's some shuffling on the phone, but sounds like the other man is definitely still in bed.

"You haven't seen James, have you?" Paul asks. "He's not…he's not answering my calls and I don't know if - "

"Have not seen Nealer since yesterday." Geno says, he sounds marginally more alert, "Thought maybe Nealer be with you. Easier to be sad together."

"No, uh -" Paul clears his throat awkwardly, "No he's not with me."

"I call him this morning, he not answer. I thought, Nealer be with Paulie, of course not answer phone." Geno says, "Sid call him too, not answer."

"Ok. Ok, thanks, G." Paul sighs, "Hey, you and Sid, you two together right now?"

"Yes, is next to me." Geno says dutifully, "You need talk to Sid?"

"No, I'm good." Paul says, "I just … tell him I'm sorry, and you know…I'm just…I'm sorry."

"Not your fault Paulie." Geno says softly, "But I tell him."

"Ok, let me know about James, and uh - ' Paul pauses, "I'm sorry, G."

"Not your fault, Paul." The distant voice of Sid comes through the phone, it sounds like Sid is half asleep but has definitely not forgotten his captain duties.

"Talk later, Paulie." Geno says before hanging up.

Paul eats the cold mac n' cheese in the dark in total silence. It's another 10 minutes before his phone lights up with a text from Geno.

"Nealer not answer ((((("

Then two seconds later, "I keep try"

Paul stands up with a heavy sign, and paces the room not really knowing what to do. He knows James is terrible at dealing with losses, he knows this. He knows from experience that James is even worse at dealing with playoff losses. But this, this complete radio silence is something he's never experienced before.

Paul sets dishes into the dishwasher, looks at the clock, it's 9pm and way too early to go to bed. But screw it, he goes anyway.

He's in bed for maybe 20 minutes (30? Could be 40. There's no clock in the bedroom because James doesn't like seeing those red numbers and Paul had moved his clock to the guest bedroom.) when he hears the front door open. Then follows the inveriable sounds of James trying (and failing) to be quiet and sneaking around the house.

Paul reaches for his phone, "Got James.", he texts to Geno, and then stays in bed, waiting for his boyfriend.

James opens the door to the bedroom slowly in about 5 minutes, but doesn't really move to get inside.

"Paulie?" James whispers, and it almost breaks Paul's heart to hear him so unsure of himself.

" There's mac n' cheese in the fridge if you want any." Paul sighs.

"I don't - " James starts, "I'm not hungry."

Paul sits up in the bed and props himself up against the headboards, a new addition in his bedroom after he met James ("But we have to have them Paulie, all the movies do", "You mean all the porns you've watched, Jamesy?", "They're just R rated movies Paulie, don't be crude.").

"You want to talk?" Paul pats the bed just next to him.

"I'm sorry I didn’t answer your call." James says, and takes a shaky step towards the bed, "I just…I was out today just walking around, and I didn't check my phone."

"That's not like you James." Paul says, and pats the bed again. This time James actually sits down on it.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Paulie." James says, he crawls up into the bed, but stops just short of touching Paul. "I was just…there was a lot on my mind and I just forgot to - "

"That's not like you either, James." Paul shifts himself a little and tugs James into a hug, "What's going on, Jamesy?"

"I don't want you to go." James buries his head into the crook of Paul's neck and breathes in, "I don't want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving, James," Paul kisses his temple, "You know I'm not James, I just renewed my contract, I'm not going anywhere."

"No, you don't understand." James sits up with a  look of complete frustration on his face, "I don't want you to go now. I don't want you to leave and have to spend the summer without you. Last year was bad enough but now… I don't want to be alone for four months."

"You're not -" Paul breathes in and resists the urge to roll his eyes, "James, look at me."

James runs a hand through his hair (Paul inwardly cringes, he's been trying to slowly convince James that he needs to wash his hair more than once a week, but has so far been met with only James's own attempts at convincing him to stop washing his hair so often. "But Paul, I don't want you to go bald, just trust me, ok?") and holds a somewhat steady gaze with Paul.

"You want to come to Minnesota with me?" Paul asks, and reaches out to touch James's cheek briefly, "I haven't bought my ticket yet, was waiting for you."

"Minnesota?" James asks, a little slack jawed, "For the whole summer?"

"No, not the whole summer," Paul says, and watches as James's face crumbles, "No I meant, we could go to Ontario for a bit, visit your family? And then, I don't know, I hear Ibiza is nice in the summer. Or, wherever you want to go."

"Wherever I want to go?" James repeats, "Really?"

"Yes, really." Paul laughs weakly and leans forward to capture James's mouth in a kiss. "Anywhere you want."

"You'll be with me the whole summer?" James says in between kisses.

"Well, so long as you don't pull another disappearing act on me." Paul jokes, "But yeah, if you want. The whole summer."

"Your parents…they'll be ok with me going?" James asks.

And Paul outright laughs at that. His parents have known about him and James the day that stupid NHL 36 episode aired. His sister had called to congratulate him.  It didn't seem to matter to them that him and James hadn't been in a relationship back then ("If you're not in one now it's not far off, Paulie, have you seen his stupid face when he talks about you? It's so dumb.").

"Yeah, yeah they'll be ok with it." Paul says and pulls James in for another kiss, "Yours?"

"They've known…" James blushes bright red, "My mom was the one who told me to ask you out."

"Oh, and you took that to mean get drunk and kiss me, then pass out on my couch?" Paul laughs.

"Shut up, Paulie." If possible James blushes even harder, "It worked."

"Yeah ok. Ok." Paul shifts, and picks up his phone from the bedside table, "I'm going to call my mom, let her know we're visiting. How about you do the same?"

"Ok, Paulie."

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was so mad after game 6 that I felt like I need to channel it into writing something. So here it is. I'm not entirely sure what this is supposed to be, but it kind of took a shape of its own.
> 
> And then I added the second chapter because, let's face it, that was difficult for everybody.
> 
> Also (sorry I keep adding little bits of notes), but you can find me on tumblr under mimosa1014, and I'm really bored so if you give me hockey prompts I'll probably write them


End file.
